


We Only Have Our Winter

by BuckyBarnes8999



Category: Captain America (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bucky Barnes Feels, HYDRA Trash Party, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Rape, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckyBarnes8999/pseuds/BuckyBarnes8999
Summary: Bucky was wringing his hands when he sidled into the room. He was still in his uniform, Domino mask and all."Buck, what's wrong?" He asked the kid.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59





	1. Kronas and other inextinguishable fires

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags.
> 
> This is a non MCU fic. Based off comics.
> 
> I drew a crappy lil cover for this lol see it here: [ Cover Art!](https://ibuckybarnes.tumblr.com/post/619449967315222528/quick-crappy-cover-i-guess-for-a-fanfic-of)

Captain America was resting in a practically frigid outbuilding. Vasily Karpov had been so kind as to provide the Captain with the building to offer him a little privacy, a little reprieve from being Captain America, away from prying eyes. 

There was a little fire in the room, vented by a surprisingly effective chimney. He kept wanting to get up and stoke the flame but the thought of losing warmth to the frigid Russian Autumn made him shudder. 

It seemed almost nicely primitive that he was robed in a bear skin. He might have even enjoyed the experience of it weren't for the circumstances.  
Things were weighing heavy on Cap's heart. Karpov's methods, Kronas burning to the ground. He tossed and turned on the makeshift bed.  
It was almost a relief when he heard a soft knock on the flimsy door. It was an excuse to stop pretending to sleep.  
"Yeah?" His voice was crackly, he swallowed and tried again "come in."

Bucky was wringing his hands when he sidled into the room. He was still in his uniform, Domino mask and all.  
"Buck, what's wrong?" He asked the kid.

Bucky avoided making direct eye contact. "It's Karpov. I . . . Steve. Steve I don't think I can stand to be around him another minute." He rattled out at a breakneck. "His methods. . . Did you see how he seemed so indifferent to that village being wiped from existence?!"  
Bucky was trembling and Steve knew it wasn't from cold. "Steve he's a monster!" 

"Come here, Buck." Steve held out his hand.  
Bucky looked ready to refuse, he wasn't a kid anymore, he was well and truly a man now. In the end his knees won out, he was shaking so much he knew he had to sit. He walked over and sat on the edge of Steve's bed.  
Steve reached out and pulled the mask off the kid. His eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. This deadly boy. This sweet, deadly boy. Cap's thumb swiped under one of Bucky's eyes, clearing the tear that just fell.  
"We're done here, Bucky." Steve stated. "Our mission is done here, you don't have to see him again. I'm glad if it too, because your concerns mirror mine." 

Bucky looked so relieved but something dark clouded his expression still. "Steve I wouldn't be surprised at all if one day it's Karpov we'll be fighting." 

Steve considered his companion's words for a moment, a hard set to his jaw. "Maybe, Buck, maybe." 

"Everything is fleeting isn't it, Cap?" Bucky was shaking again. "What happened to Kronas, the horror in France all of it will be taught in history books. . . Just like the Revolution. To us this seems to encompass the whole world, our existence is this war. I sometimes forget that there are people outside of it." He looked down at his hands, for a moment the gloves seemed stained a deeper shade. "I forget that this war will end and people's lives will continue after it. What will our place _be_ in that world? What will I do? I was raised on blood and death and Nazi screams." 

Steve hadn't given much thought to after the war. He knew though that people came back from war and settled down, knew life went on.  
Except. . . Except when it didn't. He'd seen shell shocked men, knew them as a kid himself. Remnants of The Great War. He knew some of those men ate bullets not six months in civilian life. He knew those guys spoke just like Bucky was right then.  
Steve pulled Bucky to himself and rubbed circles on his back.  
"Bucky, you'll continue. You'll have a life after this. I'll be right there with you, making sure you get your share of living in." He offered the boy a tight smile.

The gloved fingers of Bucky's left hand reached out in the half dark and traced Steve's brow bone. Those deadly fingers slid down, playing over his cheekbones, his strong chin, and finally his lips. 

Steve pulled away slightly. "Bucky?" Steve questioned the kid.

Bucky used his teeth to remove his glove, then his fingers returned to Steve's lips. His fingers were really delicate out of the bulky gloves, perfect for the fine agile work he did in the field.  
"Shh, Steve." He clicked his tongue. There was something that Steve might have labelled dangerous in Buck's eyes. However it almost transfixed him at the same time. 

Bucky's eyes kept flitting from Steve's lips-- which he was still slowly tracing with his fingers-- to Steve's eyes. 

Steve jolted to his feet when Bucky whispered in a slightly husky tone; "Steve I want you to be my first." 

Of course Bucky was the person Steve cared for most in the world, of course he was the closest person to him. . . But that didn't mean he'd, he'd. . . He'd want the kid like _that_.  
They were _men_.

"Bucky, I---" Steve tried to get any words at all out but he couldn't think of exactly what to say about this situation.

Bucky sat up, eyes shimmering with tears again. "I misread things I guess, Cap." He stated failing to hide the quaking in his voice. "I, I'll see you in the morning." He gathered his mask and gloves and slid out of Steve's bed. 

Steve was left with a gnawing feeling in his gut.  
_________

Weeks passed and the pair never spoke about what had happened.

Bucky seemed to take his role even more seriously. His kill count spiked, as did his efficiency at killing. He was like a shadow. It was almost frightening. It was getting results though. 

They were hot on The Skull's trail.  
That is until they fell victim to Baron Zemo. 

Steve awoke on his knees on cold hard stone. His vision was slow in clearing, his hearing however was acute. Someone was sobbing close by. 

A crack rang out almost deafening as it reverberated off the stone the room was constructed of. A sharp cry followed the crack. 

Cap sobered quickly. "Bucky?!" He cried out, recognizing that agonized scream. 

Cap's head was yanked back sharply and he was face to--- hood with Baron Zemo. 

"Welcome to our little party, Herr Captain." Zemo said, Cap could hear the smirk in his voice though he couldn't see it.  
" _Bastard._ " Cap spat, struggling against the ties that bound him. "Let Bucky go!" 

"Cap, I'm sorry." Bucky sobbed somewhere behind Zemo. "I'm sorry."  
Of course the kid was blaming himself. 

"Buck, it's okay. It's . . . We're going to get outta this." Cap didn't sound as reassuring as he wanted but he hoped it was enough. 

Bucky didn't say more but the soft sobbing continued.  
Another crack rang out and Bucky screamed anew. 

Cap grit his teeth. "What do you want, Zemo." 

"Right now?" Zemo stepped aside letting Cap see Bucky at last. "To break you Herr Captain. To take from you, like you took from me."  
Bucky was chained by his wrists, standing-- but just barely-- hanging against his bonds. Fresh rivulets of blood ran down his bare chest. His skin was mottled with bruises.  
His body slightly shook, he was hiding his face, not wanting to show Cap his tears.

"Cap I'm sorry." He repeatedly murmured almost under his breath.

"There's nothing to be sorry for Bucky!"  
Cap couldn't break the chains that bound him no matter how hard he tried. What were these made of!

"I'm sorry I'm not strong like you. I'm sorry I--- ahhh!" Bucky's body arched as he was struck again, a fresh red line appearing directly across his chest. They were caning him, the rod was as thick as Steve's finger. 

"Bucky!" Cap shouted on his companion's behalf. 

Bucky's breaths came in sharp gasps. He couldn't choke back a loud sob.  
It seemed like the more Steve reacted the worse Bucky got it.  
Bucky's chest was a bloodied, ripped mess. His body shook with sobs he didn't try to hide anymore. His head was thrown back and the column of his neck tight with effort to restrain himself. To at _least_ not beg. He could be strong, he could be just what he was trained to be. He wouldn't let Steve down. 

"He means a lot to you, Herr Captain." Zemo laughed maniacally. "I'm going to enjoy taking him from you, piece by piece." 

"Buck. . . Don't give up!" Cap cried. 

The torture went on for days. Cap's legs screamed in pain from kneeling so long, but it was a secondary concern. 

They burned and cut and whipped Bucky. They shoved iron filings under his nails.

They barely let him sleep. Either of them.  
At times, Cap would doze off and a crack would ring out followed by a scream. There was a direct consequence to everything. 

If he took the water offered, Bucky was denied it, if he ate, Bucky starved. 

On the fifth night they were left alone in the dark. Cap couldn't force himself to stay upright. With a clattering of chains he fell to the side. 

"Steve." Bucky's voice was slightly slurred. They'd nearly knocked his teeth down his throat that day. 

"I'm here, Buck." The man whispered. 

"I . . . If I can't go on. . . If I can't make it out. Don't ---" he hiccupped a sob. "Please don't be ashamed of me."

Cap's chest hitched. "Don't talk like that, Bucky." He hissed. "We will make it." 

"You might." Bucky's voice was devoid of hope.

" _James Barnes._ " Steve chastised. "One more word like that and I'll sock you one myself when we get out." 

"I love you, Steve." He choked out. 

Steve was silent not knowing how to react to that  
Bucky chuckled dryly, then the only sound was that of his irregular breathing, for the rest of the night.

Steve didn't remember actually falling asleep until he was being hauled back to his knees.  
"Special day, Herr Captain." Zemo laughed. "See, I love listening in. I love letting you think you've got a little privacy, a little solace. But Bucky here has helped us create a new torture for him." He stepped aside and let one of his lackeys by.  
"Seems your partner here is a part of a  
Percentage of the population that even your Allied Forces seem to loathe." Bucky was suddenly screaming somewhere behind Zemo the sound was oddly muffled. He wasn't following what Zemo was rambling about.  
"Do you know that while your allies free the Jews when they liberate a camp--- they more often than not just leave the _homosexuals_ , Herr Captain?"  
Cap's eyes flew wide. 

No. 

"He's not---!" Cap was backhanded. 

Bucky's screaming ceased, replaced by muffled sobbing. Cap watched horrified as Bucky was dragged limply back to be chained as he was before. 

Blood poured down his chin. He had one of those goddamned pink felt triangles sewn over his mouth. The stitching was done with thick twine, tight stitches all around the damned thing.  
"You bastards!" Cap shouted, struggling tenfold against his chains with newfound strength. 

Bucky let his head fall to his chest, body shaking as he cried bitterly. 

"Lovely isn't it, Herr Captain? Such fine stitching with such thick thread. And what a squirming subject." Zemo laughed cruelly. "But we're not done for today, no, not nearly." 

Zemo took a seat on a straight backed chair close to Cap's left, facing Bucky.  
He nodded to one of his nearby lackeys.  
The man jumped to action. 

Bucky was liberated of his trousers, as they were roughly pulled to his ankles. 

Bucky jolted when he felt fingers trailing over the cleft if his ass. "Nhh!!" He exclaimed through the felt. He flinched away only to be pulled roughly back.  
A finger penetrated him roughly. His already aching muscles strained against the chain his hands were bound with

"What are you doing to him?!" Cap shouted. 

Bucky felt so hopeless. Goddamn him. His big fucking mouth. He loathed himself presently.  
He felt soul-bared he felt naked in ways he had never before. Exposed. His skin crawled.  
His sobbing hitched sharply as the thug's fingers opened him up. The digits were merciless and dry and Christ on a crutch it burned.  
He hadn't wanted--- he hadn't expected it like this.  
No, Bucky didn't just feel hopeless-- he felt heartbroken.  
The burn turned into a dull ache but it was a fresh wave of hell when a third finger wedged itself in. When he cried out, body arching taught, the pink over his mouth began to stain red.  
Cap was saying something, cursing Baron Zemo, trying to soothe Bucky--- but Bucky couldn't really hear any of it. The only sound there was to him was the pounding of his own heart in his ears. 

The man's cock was bigger than the fingers by far and there was far too little prep. Bucky tore, he felt it, felt the blood trickle down his thighs. It dripped on the floor matching the little puddle from his bleeding mouth. He couldn't help but scream. 

Shame weighed as heavy on him as the pain. He sobbed openly. This was by far the most effective torture Hydra had inflicted on Bucky. Even more so than the burning, the stabbing, caning the soles of his feet.

Cap was speaking again. Bucky locked his eyes on Steve's held them meaningfully.  
He didn't blink as he stared into Steve's soul. 

Cap's breath caught. He'd never seen a look so intense. Especially not from Bucky. 

He couldn't look away, all that kept repeating in his head was Bucky's words those weeks ago.  
"Steve I want you to be my first." 

Bucky had said that. 

Steve felt like someone had stuck a knife in his gut and twisted it. 

"Bucky---" he tried once but couldn't find the words to say. He knew nothing could really help now. Nothing could soothe this away, no kind practised words. Nothing Steve was trained for. Captain America was useless as gasoline at a house fire. 

Bucky's eyes were red and streaming but as long as he was staring into Steve, he didn't scream. 

When the man violently robbing Bucky of his virginity slammed in to the hilt and came Bucky let himself go limp against the chains. 

Bucky thought that that unique torture was over but there was another man to take the last one's place. 

Bucky felt filthy. He had blood and cum dripping from him and he felt like he might be sick at any moment. 

When the second cock unceremoniously entered him it was with a sick squelch. A new wave of fluids spilled down Bucky's thighs. He pitched forward, would have fallen if not for the chains. His wrists were bleeding. 

This second man was rough, rougher than the last. He reached his hand around and grabbed at Bucky's limp cock, tugging, pulling. Like he wanted Bucky to want it, like he wanted to force him to cum. 

Bucky's body betrayed him, his cock stirred but kept flagging. The assailant's hand was persistent.  
Bucky came, he sobbed through it. His breath hitched and he tightened around the cock buried in him

He wanted to look at Steve but his mind was reeling. He wanted Steve's beautiful blue eyes to ground him.  
He was ripped back violently to the present situation by the man raking his nails over Bucky's ribs. They left lines that bled in their wake.  
Zemo's lackeys were jeering, taunting him for cumming.  
Bucky retreated into his mind. He found Cap's face and locked eyes with him again and blanked himself.  
He knew things were ruined now. All he sought after was Cap's approval. All he wanted was to please him-- it was dashed as though with rocks on a raging sea. Cap would hate him now. 

It was with that thought that Bucky gave up. He was pliant, docile, he didn't struggle now for he was _ruined_.  
He let his heart break in silence over and over again. He let the anguish flood his veins overtaking blood and marrow.  
He couldn't feel the physical pain, he wasn't even there. He was a coil, wound tight down in the center of his consciousness. 

It carried on like that for days. Bucky didn't make a sound.  
Cap tried talking to him when they were left alone but Bucky just hung limply from his chains. 

Cap openly sobbed. "I'm sorry Buck! I'm so sorry! This is my fault." Cap wailed.  
"It's all. . . It's all my fault." 

A few days later Zemo left them unchained in their locked cell. There was activity all around. It sounded like a mass Exodus. 

When Steve was sure no one was coming in, he stretched out his screaming muscles and rushed to Bucky's side.

Bucky was laying on the floor where he'd fallen when Zemo had unchained him. He wasn't doing anything but breathing slowly.  
In.

Out.

In.

Out.

When Cap touched his shoulder, Bucky immediately jolted into action, he was across the room in an instant, huddled in the corner. He curled into the wall like he could sink into it. Like it could entomb him. 

"Bucky?" Cap was struggling to stand, his legs were so sore. "Buck?"

Bucky just flinched at the sound of Steve's voice. 

"James? Look at me?" Cap knelt by him, speaking softly. 

It was a set of painfully woeful eyes that reluctantly turned to Steve.  
Steve looked over his companion, looked at what they'd done to him-- done to him because of Steve.  
There was a sickly green cast to the stitching around the felt triangle. The wounds seeped. 

Bucky flinched when Steves hand rest on his cheek. The flesh was burning hot. Infection. 

"Buck, we gotta get this off you." He whispered. There was nothing in the room to cut the stitches with. Steve scanned the barren room frantically. 

The best he could do was shatter a glass bottle and roughly cut the twine.

Bucky didn't even flinch when he pulled the rough twine from his flesh. Steve knew it had to be painful, blood and other even less pleasant biology practically poured from the wounds. "Buck Im so sorry." Steve kept repeating.  
Bucky's mouth was swollen, bruised from abuse, discolored from infection, but when Steve tired to gently touch him again he barked out: "Don't touch me!" And pressed harder to the wall. 

Steve was shocked at the outburst, hurt even. "It's me, Stev--"

"I know!" Bucky's heart was racing, his head didn't feel right. All he knew was that any contact was making his skin crawl making him feel like he was about to---  
He curled forward, wretching bile onto the flagstones.  
"Steve I wanna go home." 

Bucky had never said such as that, never complained about his missions. He'd seen the real atrocities of war. Bodies stacked on bodies, limbs countless and mixed, unable to tell one from another. He'd held a dying child til it had passed away, he'd seen the camps. Fuck, Bucky had been in one for a time. 

Steve regretted that they never personally went back after Bucky and Toro escaped.

But Zemo broke him. Zemo tore Bucky's soul apart.  
And for what, exactly? Just to hurt Captain America.  
To hurt Steve. 

Bucky's delicate fingers slowly reached out and picked the bloodied, stained, pink triangle off the floor where Steve had dropped it. He closed his fist on it and a sob tore from the depths of him. 

Steve had to say something. He couldn't though, couldn't find the words. His mind kept flashing images of the way Bucky contorted as he was assaulted. The pain in his expression. The way he visibly shattered.  
He wanted to make it all go away. He wanted to make Bucky forget those hands on him. 

Bucky wretching again brought Steve back to the present.  
When Steve gathered him up in his arms, Bucky flinched and struggled in his grasp like a barely tamed animal. 

Steve's strength surpassed Bucky's and thus he held onto the young man.  
Bucky tensed when he felt Steve sobbing against him.  
"Steve, don't cry." Bucky choked out.  
When he felt Cap's lips pressing lightly to his neck he practically leapt out of his skin. "No!" He gasped, wrenching a hand free to push Steve's head back. 

"Please let go!" He begged almost like he doubted Steve would. 

Cap moved back slowly from Bucky, all his movements deliberate and clear. "Easy, Buck. It's just me." 

Bucky's mind and body were at war. There was no one he cared for like Steve. But the thought of someone touching him, the thought of contact with anyone. A single finger on his skin, made him feel a deep need to escape, to run, hell he practically wanted to die. Touch made him feel sick.

"Steve." He whispered like a prayer. "Can we escape now?"

The next thing Steve knew, he was losing Bucky. He was losing Bucky and he couldn't stop it this time. The Drone jet, Bucky couldn't let go. 

Every whispered promise of a full life was made a lie. Every word unsaid that would never pass between them felt like a vacuum, Sucking Steve's soul away.

There was no time. No time to tell Bucky how many mistakes he'd made. No time to tell Bucky how much he regretted his reaction that night. 

He hoped Buck heard, he prayed Buck heard, "Bucky I love you." Just before the damned thing exploded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is at war with himself over the identity of The Winter Soldier

The Winter Soldier had killed Neal Tapper, and Jack Monroe, he had blown up half of Philadelphia. 

He'd killed The Red Skull, pinned it on poor Jack. Most importantly, he'd stolen a Cosmic Cube for Lukin.

There was no way he was Bucky Barnes.

No.

Cap had seen Bucky die with his own eyes. But he looked so similar. Another Hydra trick. How dare they. 

_How dare they!?_

At first he refused to believe Nick Fury's bullshit. Hell even Sharon was in on the whole conspiracy.  
But something inside him had gnawed away at him, coiling like a caged beast.

They had stormed into Aleksander Lukin's little board meeting. What a sick bastard to name his company Kronas of all things. It had done them no good to infiltrate. In fact it probably only served to alert them, it probably made them hide everything deeper.  
And that stupid white house chief of staff actually wanted Cap to _apologize_.

Steve had sat on his couch with his head in his hands, bidding tears away. He failed at that spectacularly. 

The contents of the file that had been placed in his home was on the floor, scattered. Up from the countless photographs stared the dead looking eyes of Bucky Barnes. No, The Winter Soldier. 

He'd warred with himself.  
Was Sharon right? Was there nothing left to save?  
"Bucky already died." That's what she had said.  
His insides had turned into writhing eels at those words. Was it true?

No. There had to be some part of his friend still inside, under all they'd done to him. 

The rebellion, the disappearances, that had to mean something, right? 

Tony Stark helped him, helped him track the Cube . . .and by tracking the Cube, The Winter Soldier.  
Sam, he was thankful for Sam. He understood that Steve couldn't stand idly by while there might be some hope. 

Now, Steve was fighting him, Bucky--- The Winter Soldier. It seemed he didn't remember Steve. Or anything for that matter, the file on him was accurate. Bucky was a blank slate when they found him.

One misstep on the Soldier's part and now Steve held the Cosmic Cube in his hand. 

_" **Remember who you are.** "_ Steve said pointedly drawing on the cube, imposing his will on it.

The Winter Soldier screamed, dropping to his knees. The screams turned to ragged sobs. 

Steve could hear footsteps behind him, many of them. Sharon and her STRIKE team must have arrived. 

"Bucky, come on. . ." Steve stowed the Cube in one of his pouches and roughly pulled Bucky to his feet. 

"Steve!" Bucky gasped out through sobs. His knees were weak but he let Steve drag him along. He was reeling, he couldn't keep his balance and thus had to slump against Cap's side. 

Memories were flooding back to him. At times he was very present but for the most part he was years away.  
"You should have killed me, Steve." Bucky whispered during a more lucid moment. 

Steve just trudged onward. Sharon had told him over comms that the facility was a warren of tunnels. A regular rat's nest.  
If he could just get Bucky some place private, some place they could talk!

He was well and truly lost himself by the time he stopped in a little maintenance hub deep in the tunnels. The only things in the small room were a chair and a big LCD display that seemed to map and monitor that section of tunnels.  
When Steve sat Bucky down on the threadbare office chair, Bucky jolted like he'd been shot. He jumped at every little sound, every motion Steve made. 

"Easy, Buck, it's just me. Steve." Steve put his hands on Bucky's shoulders only to have them shrugged off. 

"I know it's you!" Bucky hissed. There were so many things he'd blissfully forgotten. His conscience was one of them. Guilt weighed like stone on him. Knowledge of what he had done, all the atrocities he had committed made his very soul burn. 

He felt panic gripping his chest like an icy hand.  
He remembered far too much, many things he wished he couldn't. 

"Steve. . . Why didn't you kill me?!" Bucky didn't register that he was openly sobbing.  
He held tight to his knees to ground himself.  
God, he remembered it all. It was like he was a living dichotomy; Captain America's kid sidekick, Bucky and this thing, this Winter Soldier.  
Of a the things Cap could have said.  
Why not; "Forget The Winter Soldier, Remember being Bucky."?

Or;

"Just die."

To add to all that the memory of being in Baron Zemo's custody flooded back to him. The fuck of it was that though it happened years upon years ago, it flooded back fresh. His last memory before he. . . Before he became The Winter Soldier.  
The combination of everything was too much all at once.

This, this Steve had done to him.

"Steve." He found himself gasping. "Steve please, end it." 

"But I just got you back, Buck." Steve tilted his chin up, keeping his hand firm on him.  
"I'll help you through this. Don't go running where I can't. Not again." 

Bucky closed his eyes and let the tears freely roll down his cheeks. His every fiber was recoiling from Steve's touch but he forced himself to stillness. "Steve please."

Bucky couldn't articulate what he wanted to say. He couldn't precisely put into words that he just wasn't suddenly "back". There was a whole new war in him.  
Was _"Bucky"_ even who he was?

Somehow he felt like he'd just allowed them to reprogram him. Like it was something he could have prevented if he'd been strong enough. And goddamn it all. . . Vasily Karpov . . . The bastard. He'd played nursemaid to the sick bastard til he'd died. 

Bucky felt like puking but he swallowed hard trying to force the feeling away.

Steve used his free hand to remove Bucky's Domino mask. He smoothed his thumb over Bucky's eyelid, wiping away tears. "Bucky. Talk to me."

"There's nothing to say." Bucky stated softly. "I know you read about me."

"You. . . The file?"

Bucky nodded slowly. "I don't even know why I did it."

Steve had assumed it was the cube fucking with him, assumed it had been magicked there.

Bucky couldn't hold back a particularly hard sob and it wrenched Steve's gut. 

"Bucky I'm so sorry." He still held Bucky's chin firm and now he leaned in and pecked his lips. 

Bucky stiffened against him, pushing back with his hands. "N-no!" He wailed, panic rising again. 

Steve frowned. "I'm not them, Bucky."  
He roughly gripped Bucky by the jaw and pressed his lips against Buck's harder.

Bucky leaned into it. Something seemed off. His hands trailed along Steve's sides when Steve parted for air Bucky spoke softly. "Steve, I need. . ." 

"Yes, Buck?" 

"I need to end it!" Bucky pushed Steve back, away from him. He had Steve's sidearm to his temple.

"Bucky!" Cap grabbed his wrist just before the shot rang out. The bullet lodged safely in the wall instead of in Bucky's skull.  
The wrist in his hand trembled like a leaf. Bucky dropped the gun and curled forward onto the man he was no longer much smaller than.  
The tears came in broken gasping sobs, barely human wails. He cried til he was absolutely spent.

After a while, Bucky pulled back again, searching Steve's eyes. His own were limned red and glassy, puffy with tears. "Cap please, can we just escape?" 

"That's what we're doing, Bucky. Escaping." This time when Steve kissed him, Bucky tried fighting back his fight or flight instincts. He tried grounding himself, constantly reminding himself that this was Steve not some rapist Hydra psycho.

This was Captain America and he loved him, didn't he?

He let Steve kiss him more than actively participated in the act himself. He let Steve get him out of his tac gear, not resisting when Steve's hand slid to undo the straps and buckles. 

Steve's hand played along his chest as it was revealed. His brow furrowed at the layered scars his fingers felt. 

Bucky let him touch as he pleased, only recoiling slightly when Steve became bold enough to touch the joining of metal and flesh on his shoulder. 

Steve leaned in and slid his tongue over the scarred flesh there. Bucky closed his eyes.  
Steve's mouth slowly made its way to one of Buck's dusky pink nipples. Bucky made a soft almost startled sound. His skin broke out in goosebumps. 

Steve's wet, hot tongue slowly circled the hardening nub. He kissed it, his lips parted on it and his teeth grazed over it.  
Bucky gasped, fighting the urge to put his hands on Steve's broad shoulders and push him back. 

Steve mistook the sound for a _good_ sound and lightly nipped his nipple again.  
This time, Bucky whined sharply.  
This sound actually startled Bucky, it _was_ a cry of pleasure. His chest arched to Steve's mouth. 

Steve smiled against his skin. This time when he nipped his flesh Bucky groaned out a soft, "Mh, Steve."

Buck was by no means more relaxed just because Steve managed making something actually feel good. He was still trembling and having to fight the urge to, well, fight.

Steve's hands were roaming again, feeling the cut muscles of Bucky's back, tweaking the nipple not being lavished by Steve's mouth.

Eventually Steve released the nipple from his mouth, leaving it slightly swollen, pinkened and slick. His mouth trailed upward to Bucky's neck, which he teased with both tongue and teeth. 

Steve was enamoured, he'd never dared imagine Bucky like this. It seemed a sin almost, an affront to his memory. He was gorgeous. His skin where it was unmarred was like silk. His body was hard, possibly harder than Steve's, all cut muscle.  
"Bucky I love you, so much." He whispered against the shell of his ear, tongue lightly darting out against it.

That broke him, that broke Bucky. He started to sob. "I love you too, Cap!" He gasped out, finally holding onto Steve, not letting him pull back.  
Bucky's trembling hand gripped onto Steve's helmet. "More." He gasped between sobs. 

Steve was hesitant, Bucky was sobbing like he'd just killed his mom in front of him. 

A soft "please" from Buck spurred him into action. He pulled back and claimed Bucky's lips, which he now found pliant, welcoming.  
He noted the difference, kicked himself a bit. He reluctantly pulled away.  
"Bucky do you want this?" He asked making Bucky look at him, making the other man meet his blue gaze. 

Bucky hesitated, searching Steve's eyes. Was this a trick? A trap of some kind?  
He pushed those thoughts down, this was Steve. He wouldn't . . . Trick him. 

"I want--- I . . . I-- I don't. I don't know what I want, Steve!"  
He tried sorting out the swirl inside his head. "Make it stop. Make it all stop, the feeling of their hands on me!" He knelt up and pushed Steve back, his hands went immediately for Steve's belt. "It seems fresh to me again, Zemo's men."  
Where Bucky touched his own skin he left reddened marks. On the hand he actually had nails on, he left deep scratches that bled slightly. It almost looked like he was trying to carve the memory from his flesh.

He unzipped his own pants, shucking them unceremoniously.  
Steve had only ever seen Bucky fully naked in passing, in showers, or while changing in barracks. The sight now made Steve's mouth go dry. He wasn't the boy he'd met, hell he wasn't the man he'd watched him grow into.  
Steve's cock twitched in his uniform.  
"Bucky." He gasped. 

"I wish you'd have been my first, Steve." He whispered. "Maybe you'll just be the first one that counts." He sat on Steve's lap, straddling him. 

Bucky's fingers, still delicate but not quite as slender as they once were, traced Steve's lips.  
Steve understood now, it wasn't his place to do this, it was Bucky's. Bucky had to be in charge of it, he had to be in control.  
This much the universe owed Bucky Barnes.

Steve slowly leaned into the touch, letting Bucky learn the feel of his skin beneath his fingertips.

"Steve I used to have dreams, when I was allowed to sleep. Dreams of faceless hands on me in the dark. I'm almost thankful to understand _why_." Bucky was slowly touching Steve's face, his neck, ghosting over his ears. "I dreamed of your eyes too." His metal fingertips traced the gentle line of Steve's orbital.

He leaned in, slowly pressing his lips to Steve's. 

"If you're willing now, what stopped you that night?" Bucky asked when he pulled back, breaking their nearly chaste kiss. 

"After Kronas?" Steve queried and Bucky nodded.

"Fear. Fear of repercussion, fear of things changing." Steve answered immediately. "Fear of stealing your innocence."  
Now that sounded absurd to Steve. It sounded like a bitter pill.

"Nothing to fear now, huh, Cap?" The naked man on his lap worked Steve free of his helmet then finished his belt off. "Make me forget them, Steve?"  
He knew just where the hidden zips and buckles of Captain America's uniform lay. His hands made quick work and he groaned when he bared Steve's chest and shoulders.  
Where Bucky was all cut, taught muscle, Steve was a brick wall with a thin layer of fat making his contours softer, more inviting. 

"Steve, fuck me." He panted, finally giving in to what he knew he wanted in his soul. What he'd always wanted--- Who he'd always wanted. "Fuck me like you really do love me."

Steve growled deep in his chest. Be damned, Steve was now determined to make Bucky feel the way he loved him. One hand braced on Bucky's back the other gripped Bucky's hip, keeping them flush to his body. He used naught but his own Strength to maneuver Bucky onto his back on the cold concrete floor.

Bucky groaned, deep and needy when Steve sucked a brilliant mark onto his neck. He wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and Steve could feel Buck growing hard against him.

"This for me, Buck?" Steve asks, grinding down on him.

Bucky throws his head back and groans, "only for you." He grates out. He's sensitive, he hadn't used this part of his anatomy for anything other than pissing for . . . Years. And no, he didn't count the hands of his captors.

Steve shrugs his arms entirely out if his uniform, he's naked to the waist now. Bucky eyes him appreciatively, looking up at him with doe eyes. 

In spite of his clear and present need, a bit of panic spiked in Bucky's chest.  
"St-steve?" He gasped out in question when Steve leaned back to get out of his uniform further. 

"Yes, Buck?" 

"Please don't hurt me." He sounds a little disjointed and broken.  
His words were met with a kiss that took his breath away. Steve pulled him in close, tongue darting out just slightly, letting Bucky choose whether or not to allow it entry.  
Bucky moaned, parting his lips for him.  
A hand trailed between their bodies, grasping Bucky's rigid cock.  
Steve pumped his hand over him, getting the feel of his admittedly impressive length. Buck was uncut, and each time Steve slipped his foreskin back over his sensitive tip, the younger man keened prettily. His thighs twitched, Steve could tell he was resisting the need to buck into his hand.  
"Feel good?" Steve asked, voice deep with lust. Bucky nodded, his pupils were blown and he was panting.  
"Words." Steve purred. 

"Yes, Cap." Bucky moaned and Steve's cock twitched at the way that name sounded on his lips. 

"C-- may I touch you . . . Here?" His hand slipped away from Bucky's cock and past his heavy balls. His middle finger gently pressed against Bucky's puckered entrance. 

Bucky flinched at first but made a real effort to slow the sudden spike in his heart rate. "Yeh--- yes, Cap. Please." He tried pressing down on the digit but Steve beat him to it. The finger slipped in easily, slicked with Bucky's precum. 

Bucky arched hard with a pretty cry. Buck's insides were velvety and hot, Steve could feel the scarring where he'd torn that first time.  
It broke Steve's heart to feel it. It had been that bad.

"So good, Buck." He soothed, gently moving his single finger, slowly stretching Bucky.

When Steve thought he was ready he gently added a second finger.  
Bucky tensed this time, there was some pain. A slight burn.  
"Relax, James." Steve purred soft and deep as his fingers began easing that very burn away. He felt Bucky shudder beneath him, both the man's hands, metal and flesh gripped onto Steve's Shoulders.  
Steve leaned in and kissed him while he pumped his fingers. He swallowed down the moan that escaped the other man when he curled his fingers, seeking and finding his spot with little difficulty.  
Steve couldn't resist keeping his fingers on that spot as he moved them.  
Bucky moaned just so prettily. 

There's were sparks of pleasure racing through Bucky's body, this was different. _Really_ different.  
Steve worked him open deftly with his fingers he was on a third and Bucky found himself actually enjoying the burn. 

He whined when Steve pulled them out.  
"Buck? You wanna get this wet for me?" He asked leaning back, gesturing to his rigid prick.  
Bucky eyed it fearfully but nodded, knowing that this was a necessity.  
He got to his knees and leaned over, immediately taking the tip of it into his mouth. Steve hissed at the feeling, his cock twitching. 

Bucky used his mouth to smear the pre that was leaking from Steve's cock, over the length of it. And Bucky was nothing if not determined to do a good job. He let his saliva coat Steve, it dripped down his chin obscenely.  
Steve had to pull back, he had to stop or he wouldn't last.  
"Th-thank you Buck." He ran his thumb over Bucky's glistening lip.  
"So beautiful." He cooed and Bucky blushed, nobody had ever called him beautiful before.  
"Lay back for me, doll?" Steve asked of him and he slowly complied. 

He was given Steve's fingers again, briefly. This time when they were removed, Steve settled between his legs. 

Bucky was shaking again, he looked up at Steve with that same intense expression he had all those years ago.  
Steve realized what it was now, it was possession. Bucky _owned_ Steve with those eyes. He owned Steve and gave himself entirely to him in one pointed expression.  
"I love you, Buck, no one's ever going to take us from each other again." He swore as he pressed in slowly. 

Bucky cried out sharply, hips raising of their own accord. "Steve." He moaned, adjusting to the considerable size of the cock in him. It burned but it didn't spur any waves of horror. He. . . He liked it.

Steve was encouraged by the sounds he was drawing from Buck. Inch by inch he sank into him til his pelvis was flush to Bucky's ass.  
Both men trembled like leaves in an Autumn breeze as Steve paused, fully seated to let Buck adjust.  
"Think I can move now?" Cap asked leaning down to kiss Bucky again. 

"P-please." Bucky moaned against his mouth. "Move, Steve."

Steve's name became a prayer on Bucky's lips. 

Steve moved slowly, gently at first, making sure Bucky was in no pain.  
Bucky was so tight and hot inside it made Steve a little dizzy. The experience in general was heady, amazing, and almost unbelievable. He couldn't believe they were finally doing this. 

Bucky writhed beneath him, the pleasure was too much. Steve's cock was angled just right that it hit his spot with each torturously slow thrust. He surprised them both by crying out; "Cap! Harder!"

Steve's hips stuttered to a stop but when his brain and body caught up with each other he snapped them forward.  
Bucky cried out, arching hard, his cock was making slick trails between their bodies.  
"Yes! Steve! Fuck me!" 

Steve growled and pulled Bucky into a different position. He held his hips high, throwing his legs over his shoulders. Steve knelt up and pistoned his cock into him.  
From this angle, practically bent in half, upside-down, each motion practically punched the breath out of Bucky. 

Not half a dozen deep, hard thrusts later Bucky's vision whited, his release having snuck up on him. With a sharp cry of Steve's name he came untouched painting his own chest and face with cum. 

The feeling of his insides tightening and spasming around Steve was almost enough to send him over the edge too.  
He fucked Bucky through his orgasm til the only sounds coming from were wrecked sobs of overstimulation. 

Bucky's cry of "Please Cap!" Was what sent him over the edge. He didn't bother pulling out, he pushed in as deep as he could go and filled Bucky.  
He wanted to lay claim to this body, this man. 

Bucky went limp in his grip and stared up at him with that expression again.  
"Feel loved?"

Bucky chuckled breathlessly and nodded. "Yeah, Cap." He whispered.

They didn't have a lot of time to bask in the afterglow, Bucky could hear footsteps, several sets of them.  
"Steve. We need to run.". He said forcing himself to stand up and retrieve his clothes. 

Steve was quick to follow, righting his uniform, buckling his belt.  
Steve looked over Bucky and remembered something Vasily Karpov had said to him all those years ago. "The rest of the world has its technology and superhumans and machines but we Russians only have our winter." How bittersweet that sounded now. "You okay?" He chanced to ask Bucky. 

"For the moment." Bucky grabbed Steve's hand. "Let's go. Like you said, no one's ever going to take us from each other again."


End file.
